Type Of Woman:Traveler,Volunteer,Professional,Free Spirit,Partner
Biography:Moving from the rambling space of an Australian city to compact quaint Ye Olde Delft delights me every time I look out my window or amble around her streets.
With roots traceable back to explorers (and a few convicts), adventure and wanderlust has long been encouraged in my wonderful family. This combined with a fabulous Dutch husband makes it is no surprise to find myself living in the land of tulips and clogs.
A vivacious, consummate foodie, active, animal lover (I miss my dog and cat terribly), I've only been here a few months but already the map on my wall is thickly forested with thumb tacks of all the places I want to go.
If I could change one thing about myself I think I'd quite like a prehensile tail (a monkey tail).
Other than being cute and fuzzy it would be so very useful.
We All Have Stories Of Cooking Gone Awry...
I first tried agar when a veggo friend (who's an exceptional cook) served it for desert one sultry, queensland evening. It was an inspired choice, cool and refreshing. Simliar to jelly (which I don't like) but with a smoother, silkier and more melty texture.
I'd forgotten about this light tasty treat until smooching around the local oriental supermarket recently, I spotted packs of it.
The recent hot weather made it an appealing idea. I chose orange in honour of the Dutch soccer team (who were playing in the world cup at the time) and because I think many artificial flavours smell unappealing similar to household cleaners. Following the simple instructions (same as making jelly) the electric orange liquid started setting while sitting cooling on the bench.
Though dinner was tasty (homemade falafel balls in pita bread with salad) everyone left a little space in anticipation of the sweet, cooling delight I'd prepared. Taking the gelatinous orange mound from the fridge I couldn't help poking at it (I can never resist poking jelly to see its funny wobble, though the owner, it's never mine I don't eat the stuff, often finds it a little less funny than me). I frowned as the substance firmly resisted my finger. It didn't move, not a wobble not even a little ripple. Maybe it was just the support of glass bowl I'd set it in. I flipped it onto a plate and poked it again... solid. Hmmmm. Never mind. I carved it up with a knife like a cake and plonked a slice of jelly cement onto three plates. I'd made it and we were darn well going to try it. Though to be fair I was wondering if feeding it to the seagulls squabbling in the square outside our flat would be cruel and unusual punishment. Our guest was polite enough to try the stuff and equally polite enough to wait until I'd spat my mouthful out first, obviously relieved her bed for the night would not have to be earned by swallowing any of my neon dessert experiment. Laughing, my husband (a wise man), flat out refused to try his slice and snuck off to the fridge to find the emergency ice cream I squirreled away in the freezer.
Though it looked and smelled the part, my agar was completely tasteless and had the texture of edible moulded plastic.
I think this is a little like my expat experience thus far.
From my comfortable life in Australian relocation and expat life seemed pretty appealing and looked easy to me. But now I'm living it I've found it's a little harder than I thought it would be. I'm not a quitter so maybe I need to alter the recipe a bit or seek a little experienced help. Just as one day my agar will surprise and delight I now realise it will take a little patience, trail and error and humour to bake the expat life I want.
I hope I'm always inclined to try new things, I know some things will look better than they really are and it can be fun even when things don't work out as planned but then there's always the tub of emergency icecream!
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